It’s in the genes

Apparently, some things are just hereditary…like motion sickness. Every so often, Fussypants yaks milky, chunky, baby-barf all over himself right at the precise moment I pull into his preschool parking lot. For a fleeting instant, one day, I wondered if he did it on purpose so he wouldn’t have to go to school. But I let that thought fade as he loves school and so doesn’t love being covered in his own stinky, messy puke.

So back to the hereditary part…for years I’d throw-up all over the car too (39 years old and I still get told the story about the time I puked in my shoe with my brother and two cousins in the back seat with me, all piled on each other so they wouldn’t touch it)…and I still get motion sick on boats and airplanes….can’t ride backwards on a train, sometimes even feel a bit nauseous on swings. I mentioned Fussypant’s penchant for puking to my birth mother and she told me she used to get car sick as a child too. So there you have it…three generations of motion sickness passed down. Yippee.

I’m trying a preemptive strike though: the barf bucket. For the two days we’ve used it, Fussypants has not gotten sick. So far, so good. He does, however, like to make gagging, bulyetch, barf noises into the bucket…I think it echoes when he sticks his head all the way in.